Sometimes You Wish Me Dead
by autumnlover
Summary: A fight between Ron and Hermione is put into perspective when one ghastly quidditch match goes utterly wrong... rhr
1. Chapter 1

Sometimes You Wish Me Dead

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Chapter 1:

"It's not even about this, is it?"

"Excuse me? Of course it's about that!"

"No, it's not, for Merlin's Sake... this is..." Ron pondered for words. He never seemed to be able to find any when he and Hermione fought. "It's about Vicky, isn't it?"

Genuine confusion emerged on Hermione's face. "_What_?"

"Have you got another letter then? Is that it? Can't stand being away from your lover? Bloody Hell, Hermione, control yourself!"

Hermione let out a small noise of dissent, and shook her head slightly. "What letter? And would you stop making such rubbish up, Ronald?"

"Don't even lie to me; you've got the wrong end of this, anyway!"

"I've got the _what_?"

"This is – this is –"

"You don't know Ron, when do you ever?" Hermione said spitefully.

"That's it! This is about my grades!" Ron shouted; though Hermione was merely metres away form him. Other gryffindors in the Common Room took this as a sign to leave.

"Oh, Ronald!" Hermione scolded and started to gather her items together.

"It is, isn't it? Just admit it, you think I'm stupid!"

"Oh, for Merlin's Sake, be quiet!"

"See, you're undermining me again, Hermione!"

"Oh, this is so stupid," breathed Hermione under her breath.

"See? Stupid!"

Hermione, already rather red, snapped "Well, perhaps if you spent as much energy into your essays and homework as you do quidditch, you wouldn't think that I think that –"

"So you do, eh? This is about the match tomorrow? You're just lording over us, eh? Well, guess what?"

"No Ron, no guesses from me. Just shut up and leave me alone!" Hermione yelled and stomped up the girls' staircases, furiously hiding her tears.

Ron sat down on a comfy chair, clenching his fists. He slowly shut his eyes and rested his head in his hands.

Why him?

The quidditch match the next day was in full swing by the first ten minutes, Ginny having scored three goals to try and catch up with Ravenclaw's five.

Hermione huddled further into her scarf, keeping her eye nervously on Ron, like she always did. Why did she have that fight with him? It was over something stupid, she reminisced; probably some overworked elf. She shut her eyes tighter as the quaffle flew towards Ron again... her mouth was in a small "o" shape, like it has been for the past dozen or so minutes. He saved the goal. She would apologize to him; she told herself that there would be time; perhaps at the victory party or something... though she had to admit the way that the game was going, there wouldn't be much of a celebration...

Ron tensely scouted the pitch for chasers with quaffles, pausing only to raise his hand in triumph when Gryffindor scored yet again. When he was fairly certain that no chasers were coming, he scanned the seats for Hermione, finally finding her due to her vast amount of frizzy hair. She looked positively petrified... even from many feet in the air. Ron smiled sadly. He really did hate fighting with her. His heart fluttered over and missed a few beats. He raised one hand from his broom to run through his locks of hair, as he usually did when he was so nervous...

Hermione gasped so loudly people a metre around her looked around in confusion. _What is he doing_? _Is he trying to get himself killed_? She watched tentatively as she saw chasers racing down the pitch, towards Ron's end. _Do something_, she willed, for he wasn't moving, he just shook his head slowly, whereas the chasers were speeding down the pitch; he glanced briefly in Hermione's direction, making her heart do somersaults and touched his head again tentatively – _what on earth was he doing_? – Hermione thought; he rocked back and forth, and raised his hand to his head again and he went dizzy – blood, blood everywhere – _what the bloody hell is happening_? – His eyes rolled up the heavens and...

...His fall was almost graceful, and lasted a million years for Hermione, and several things all happened at once; Ravenclaw scored, unaware; tears burst from Hermione's eyes as she let out a scream so high, so purely terrifying, it seemed to stop time alone – several others screamed with her, looking terrified at the still figure on the pitch, and the Gryffindor team raced over to Ron's falling form as Hermione fought her way to the front of the stadium audience.

'_No_,' she said quietly, as the teachers rushed to Ron's still body, sprawled out on the floor, '_No_,' she sobbed as Harry and Ginny landed by Ron, her face mutilated with anguish, as she made out their deathly pale faces, much like her paper white one she was wearing. '_No_,' she cried, not daring to take her eyes off of the stony form of Ron, yet willing it all to go away – what was happening? What had happened to her Ron? And what would happen next?

Well, that's that, folks. Did you like it? If so, review? If you didn't, well... review anyway!!!

And you, lilacbookstar, if you dare ruin the ending I will strangle you...

... **SO**... this is nine chapters long (though might be made longer if I babble) and is set out to be fabulously fab...

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	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Disclaimer: I own nothing

The game was postponed, though that seemed to be the least of anyone's worries. The Slytherins laughed it off, but a few had some concern on their faces; what if – whatever it was – happened to them? Would it? The Gryffindors were silent as they were marched to the Common Room, only five minutes after Ron had fallen.

Hermione was one of the last few to go, shaking violently, with a combination of the cold weather and the chill of what had happened. Tears fell down her cheeks; she had stopped looking now, and had her head buried in her hands.

'Come on, 'Ermione, we gotta go now,' Hagrid's voice was above her, though it was shaking, too. Hermione only howled harder. Somehow someone else could feel the pain she had. 'E's goin' ta be fine, come on, we gotta get you inside.'

Hermione allowed herself to be stood up by Hagrid, but in doing so, she only looked at the body, with McGonagall shaking her head at it. No, not _it_, not_ the body_, Hermione thought. It was _Ron_. Not some corpse.

She hoped.

'Oh, blimey, where've ya gone now?' Hagrid called after Hermione, but Hermione kept running down the steps, wanting to see Ron sitting up, wanting to see him alive, well, to see him laughing it off...

She got as far as the steps leading to the ground before Hagrid picked her up over his shoulder.

'Hagrid!' she screeched, 'Put me _down_! I need to, I need to –' she kicked him, not caring that it was Hagrid, but as a small outlet of her anger. Anger at Ron for not being there for her. Anger at him for falling off of his broom.

And anger at her for being so, _so_ angry at him.

Hagrid began walking back up to the school, amidst Hermione's screams.

'I need to talk – I need to tell – leave me alone!' Hermione sobbed into Hagrid's shoulder. She did not stop talking throughout the short walk, and only came to a silence outside the portrait hole. Hermione realised Hagrid had done what she thought was right. He put her down, and she embraced him. 'Thank you,' she muttered into his coat, and he smiled, though she couldn't see.

'Get some rest, 'Ermione.'

Hermione nodded mutely.

She opened the door to find a silent room. The Gryffindor team were gathered around the fire. She walked quickly to Ginny (with all eyes fixed on her), and gave her a hug. The team were all covered in mud, and all looked very solemn, Harry and Ginny among the worst. Harry enveloped Hermione in a hug and she gratefully clung on.

'It's gonna be alright, Hermione,' he whispered in her ear.

Hermione didn't respond. The last thing she had said to him was to leave her alone. Would that be how he would remember her? As some cold-hearted person who cared more for grades and work than friends?

Friends.

In a great rush it came to her that she missed him so much, already; that she hadn't told him how great a friend he was, how he was go great, so lovely; and how much she liked him – so much more than a friend – how she really felt... Would she ever get a chance to?

Hermione choked out more tears, and sat down next to Harry, who was in between Ginny and her. Several more people left for bed, not being able to take any more silence, hoping for some comfort in some shuteye.

She voiced something that had been on her mind.

'Can't we –'

'No,' Harry and Ginny replied at the same time, a bitter undertone in their voices.

'How do you –'

'The Hospital Wing is barred. We aren't allowed in.'

'But how bad...' Hermione let her sentence hang in the air. Then she turned to her friends, hungry for answers. 'How did he look? Was – was there b-blood?'

Both of them opened their mouths for answers, but Ginny spoke first.

'I don't want to talk about it.'

Hermione had never heard her sound so bitter, so dejected.

'But –'

'Hermione, you're not the only one who's upset, you know,' Ginny snapped.

'I never said I was, you know,'

'Well, stop bloody acting like it!'

'Merlin's Beard, I never did! I know you're all upset...'

'God, woman, stop patronising, OK? You just think it's only you, don't you? Well, Newsflash, it's _NOT_!'

Hermione chose to ignore the statement, though her anger boiled back up, covering up some of her fear and worry.

'Look, maybe if –' Harry started to say, but Ginny cut him off:

'No.'

'Give him a break, he's upset too,' Hermione said, before even realising it.

'You _do_ think you're the only one who cares, it that it?' Ginny yelled, standing up, tears running down her face, 'Just because you have some crush on my brother doesn't mean that –'

'Oh, shut up!' Hermione yelled, and jumped up. She had never told anyone to shut up before, and her hands were shaking. 'You're only saying these things because you're upset.'

'Would you _stop_ trying to analyze everything? You don't have to be smart all the time, you know? Merlin's beard, Hermione, we're all upset, just control yourself!'

The one sentence brought back memories from Ron and Hermione's fight, and Hermione broke down on the sofa, crying, not even listening to Harry's words, or Ginny's apologies... she only wanted to be sad, just to mourn, because Ginny was right. It really felt like it was only her... and she knew she was a selfish cow for thinking it...

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	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Thanks to: all who reviewed – they make me want to write lots and lots, so that's what I'm doing!

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'Mum, stop it, I'm gonna be fine,' Ron mumbled to his fussing mother, who was tucking in the covers. 'You heard Madame Pomfrey, it's not,' he paused, '_too_ serious.'

'Oh, Ron,' Molly sighed. It was the day after the accident. 'I told you Quidditch was ever so violent, you should never have –'

Ron became hot and flushed as his mum and dad looked at him, shaking their heads slightly.

'It's not my fault that I fell off? How was I supposed to know?'

'Son, we're not blaming you,' Arthur said. 'We're just so –'

'Worried, yeah, I get it,' Ron said, embarrassed at his outburst. 'Sorry,' he murmured.

'Well, it's quite all right. Madame Pomfrey says no long term damage, so I guess you can stay here.' Arthur looked at his watch. 'Ooh, I have to go now, Ministry calls, and no more Quidditch scrapes, young lad.'

Ron smiled despite the pain in his head throbbing, and his mum left shortly after him, giving him various kisses on his forehead, making him even redder.

Ron smiled to himself, more content than he had been for days. Nothing could bother him – except for the ache in his head. But he was sure that would go away. Madame Pomfrey said it would.

A few quiet minutes passed, when Madame Pomfrey suddenly rushed in, holding a vial of Ron's blood, worry and panic stricken on her face.

'What?' Ron said, sitting up. 'Wassup with my blood?' Ron's face contorted with confusion; he had never seen her this troubled before.

'Where – where are your parents, Mr. Weasely?' she asked, shaking madly.

'Why? What? What the hell is going on? Bloody tell me!'

Ron was past thinking her as a member of staff, and wanted to know what was wrong, what was so out of the ordinary that would make her this agonised.

'Mr. Weasely, perhaps your parents should be he–'

'Tell me now, they just went. I have a bloody right to know, tell me what's so bad.'

Madame Pomfrey, perhaps from seeing the fright on his face, or perhaps form the need to tell him, opened her mouth to speak –

'There's been a terrible mistake –'

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It had been two weeks since Ron's parents had visited, and Ron's friends were extremely anxious. Harry couldn't concentrate on his work, and would yell at anyone for any reason; though somehow the fall had brought him and Ginny closer. Ginny would spend time with Harry, if not just in each other's arms for comfort.

Hermione had taken the worst toll. She found it hard to eat, sleep and had stopped talking to anyone. She spent an increasing amount of time in her Dorm, consistently muttering 'what's the point?' over and over. She was, as they say, a mess.

On that day, it was particularly cold – with it being November, the winds were high and everyone wore thick jumpers.

Like every morning, she, Harry, Ginny (and sometimes accompanied by a few others) silently met up in the common room, and went to the Hospital Wing, and asked the same question – were they able to see him? Every answer was a solid 'no'. Hermione expected this day to be no different – why should it? She had never felt this cynical before, but she somehow knew that if she could just see him – alive and laughing – then she would be OK; everything would sort itself out.

They stood outside the door, nervous and anxious. Harry raised his fist, and knocked on the door, his other hand entwined with Ginny's.

Madame Pomfrey pooped her head around the door, knowing she'd see them, and smiled. This gave the three of them hope, and they opened their mouths, when they heard a voice that they hadn't for the past few weeks.

'Let them bloody come in!'

All three pushed past Madame Pomfrey, and ran to Ron and embraced him. They all cried – including both boys.

'Good to have you back,' Harry said, wiping an embarrassed tear with his sleeve. Ron looked much paler to Harry, and had sort if lost the sparkle in his eyes. Harry even though Ron held himself different, like he's had to grow up a lot in the mere weeks he'd been in the Wing.

'You OK?' Ginny asked, looking at her brother, taking in how much thinner he looked. Ron smiled ; they all grinned.

'I'm all good,' Ron said, without the hint of doubt in the world, and they all hugged him again. Ron saw Harry and Ginny's interlocked hands.

'And what do you think you're doing?' he said to Harry, his eye's bulging.

'Er,' they both said, and dropped their hands.

'Let's... let's give them a moment – I mean minute,' Ginny said, and she and Harry rushed out of the room, smiling contentedly at their friend's wellbeing.

There was silence for some time.

'I thought you were – you were –' Hermione stammered, and Ron took her hand in his.

'Me too,' Ron said. He paused. 'I missed you,' he added shyly, and looked at Hermione. He took in her tired eyes, her unwashed hair and her thinner figure. 'Are _you_ OK?'

'I'm good, now,' she said, smiling harder. She really meant it. 'What – what happened, what was it?'

'D-dunno,' Ron said, 'a long word I didn't know. Something or – or other.'

'Are you well again, are you really?'

'Yeah,' Ron said, his voice cracking at the sound of the worry in Hermione's voice. 'Listen, Hermione, I –'

Hermione's heart did somersaults at the joy if Ron's health and at how close they were sitting.

Madame Pomfrey entered quickly.

'Mr. Weasely, have you quite made a decision yet – oh,' she finished lamely when she saw him and Hermione. Ron looked into Hermione's eyes, smiled somewhat sadly, took a breath, and tore his face away from her, and gave her a huge hug.

Before he could revel in his joy about being so close to Hermione, he thought hard, closed his eyes and then looked directly at Madame Pomfrey over Hermione's shoulder.

'I'm staying,' he mouthed.

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	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. OK?

Hermione was overfilled with joy. She forgot about the fights, the disagreements and the bickering that she and Ron had shared, because she didn't want that. She knew what she wanted – she wanted

'Him!' Ginny whispered, pointing at a cute Hufflepuff boy, 'He's cute, ask him out!'

'Um, how about _no_, Gin. Don't even know him; he could turn out to be –'

'A total prick, yeah, get the message,' Ginny sighed. She reached for more toast; they were in the Great Hall, eating breakfast for the first time in days.

'So, anyway,' Hermione said, helping herself to some orange juice, 'when's Ron going to get here?'

'Dunno,' said Ginny. 'Trust him to be late.'

'Gin! He's been through loads! Harry said he was shaking and shivering all last night!' Hermione said, her heart going out to Ron.

'Well, he ain't going back to the Wing. I won't let him.' Ginny said, as though she had made up her mind for eternity on the spot.

'Ginny,' Hermione said suddenly, putting her goblet down with a force; a little juice spilled into the table.

'What?' she said, looking concerned about Hermione's face.

'Gin, in the Hospital Wing, Madame Pomfrey said something about him making a decision, what could –'

'Him going out of the Wing, I guess,' Ginny said, dismissively; the piece of news made no difference to her. Her brother was well and that was all she cared about.

'Yeah,' Hermione said in a small voice. 'Yeah, that's what I thought.'

She paused.

'He also leaned over and said, well, I swear he was gonna say –'

'That what? He likes you?'

'_What_?' Hermione said, jumping up, but before she could interrogate Ginny any longer, that moment was chosen to be when Harry and Ron entered the Room.

All eyes flicked over to the door, and most people clapped and shouted for them. Ron turned a magnificent colour of magenta, and smiled, which made Hermione (and honestly most of the other girls in the hall) sit back down again, and blush incredibly.

Ron looked directly at Hermione, and Hermione mouthed 'Saved you a seat,' to which Ron replied with a thumbs up.

Hermione grinned to herself as she watched Ron come down the aisle with greetings from all (aside Slytherins).

'Phew,' he said, when he sat down at last, and people were more interested in eating as much as they could before first period.

'They all missed you, you know,' Hermione whispered in his ear. Ron's face contorted into one of disbelief. 'Seriously.'

Ron smiled. He had to admit, it was nice to have special attention form everybody. Especially Hermione.

'In any case, welcome back, Ronniekins,' Ginny toasted him, and Ron pulled a disgusted face.

'It's good to be back,' Ron said. 'And, man alive, I'm hungry.'

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One week had passed since Ron was let out of the Wing, and a few people had started to notice his rather odd behaviour. During a normal conversation, he would flip, go pale, and excuse himself, leaving everyone puzzled.

He would eat ravenously, then look disgusted at himself, and go – if possible – even paler, and not eat for a long time.

He jumped at every small bang, and tried to keep himself to himself, more concerned about the closet to him.

Hermione was the first one to notice all of this together.

'Uh, Ron,' Hermione sat down next to him, by the roasting fire, on the cold evening at the end of November. Ron took his head from out of his hands, and looked at her. His unfinished Astronomy essay lay in front of him.

'Hey,' he said, and turned away from Hermione to wipe a lone tear down his face. That was the last thing he wanted her to see.

'Ron, you don't have to be like that! I can help you with the essay if you like!' Hermione said in what she thought was a helpful tone. Ron clearly didn't.

'That's what it's about to you, isn't it? Work, work, bloody work!'

'Ron, I was only trying to –'

'Well bloody don't!' Ron snapped, clearly aggravated.

Hermione let out an exasperated noise. What on earth was he doing? She was _trying_ to help.

'Sorry,' she said in a small voice. 'It's just that –'

'My grades,' Ron said. 'I know they've bloody taken a dip, but –'

'But _nothing_, Ron, I'm trying to help!'

'Jumping down my bloody throat doesn't help me one bloody bit!'

'Ron, really, there's no need to swear, I just came down here to –' Hermione was becoming more and more frustrated.

'I don't care!' Ron yelled. 'I don't bloody care, d'ya hear me? I don't want to hear about my bloody grades!'

Hermione lost it. She forgot how happy she was for the past week, and could not see why he could be such a jerk for no apparent reason.

'Well, maybe you just should!' Hermione said spitefully, hardly believing it was her talking. 'You're perfectly well, and you have time, the teachers are cutting you some amazing slack, and this is how you go and repay them!'

'I can't believe you,' Ron laughed to himself. 'I actually can't. You just don't bloody care, do you?'

'I do, but you're being so much of a jerk that I can hardly care!' Hermione yelled, her face red, and her hands gesturing wildly.

'That's it! You don't care!'

'You're hardly being caring anyway, are you?' Hermione yelled maliciously, feeling better for yelling the truth, but having it hurt her so much.

'You don't even bloody like me! Are you even trying to be my bloody friend?' Ron yelled, his face choking up, tears unwillingly coming to his eyes (something which shocked Hermione incredibly, and she dropped her voice back to normal levels.)

'Ron, I –' she said, her heart pounding, railing the stupidity of this all, which she voiced. 'This is stupid,' she said, with as much sincerity as she could.

'Yeah, that's what I am to you, isn't it? The bloody stupid one!'

'Ron,' Hermione said impatiently, 'Ron - could you just –?'

'No, bloody couldn't! You can't follow me around with all this crap you're throwing, and then think it's OK? That's not what friends do, OK?'

'Ron, it's that –'

'It's that nothing!' Ron yelled.

'Would you stop being such an insensitive jerk and listen!' Hermione yelled, her temper rising.

'That's what I am to you, isn't it? Some complete jerk who you don't even like, and I'm too bloody stupid for you, Miss Bloody Granger!'

'Hermione sighed, tears coming down her face. To her amazement, tears choked down Ron's face too.

'It's like you bloody _wish_ me dead!' he shouted and look one last contemptuous look at her, and went up to the Boy's Dormitories. Hermione sat back down, going over his last words, feeling every bit as terrible as she did a week ago.

'Oh Ron,' she sighed into her hands, crying freely.

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Well, there's a rather angsty chapter 4!

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	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5!

Disclaimer: I own nothing

Well, sorry about the long wait, but I'd just like to say. I have **22 of you lot** on **ALERTS**. So would it kill you to review?!?!

Ron hadn't done much in the last week. Now almost all had noticed. He didn't eat much, and barely slept. He just sat there. Alone. Desolate.

Countless times Hermione and Harry had tried to talk. But it was worse than talking to a brick wall.

Sometimes they sat there with him. Hermione even held his hand once. This only made him cry.

On the seventh day, Hermione decided just to talk to him. Just talk.

She thought that if she just talked to him, he would respond. And some food from the kitchens might help, too.

'Hey, Ron.' She said, entering the room without knocking.

There was no response.

The guilt crept back up on her.

'Ron, look. I've said it many times, I didn't mean any of it. You – you don't know how hard it is to – to... Oh, Ron, why won't you talk?'

She sat down next to him on the edge of her bed, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

'You don't know how hard it is –'

'To love someone and never get love back?' Ron said his voice cracking. It shocked Hermione to listen to how sad he sounded, how unconnected he was to the old Ron.

Her heart melted at his answer. A tear escaped.

'I – I was looking for not having your best friend talk to you,' she said, smiling. 'But, look, you have to know it again, I'm –'

'I'm sorry,' he mumbled, and took her hand in his. 'You're right,' he laughed solemnly. 'You're always right.'

Hermione smiled, and gave Ron a hug. They stayed like that for a long time.

'You have nothing to be sorry, for, OK?' Hermione said, glad for some response.

Hermione grinned even harder when Ron reached for the soup. He ate ravenously.

'Any better?' Hermione asked.

Ron finally looked her in the eyes. Hermione saw how red and swollen they were, and the bags of an old man that hung there.

'Yeah,' he said. 'You make stuff better, you know that?'

They looked at each other.

Hermione smiled, not taking her eyes away from him.

'I know.'

Their lips met in a crash of hope and love, and frankly remained for quite some time.

Ron pulled his lips away, suddenly.

'Mione,' he said, looking almost as sad as earlier. 'Do you –'

'I like you a lot,' Hermione said, looking at the ground now, wondering why he broke it off, wondering what she had done... had it been a mistake?

'That's a shame,' Ron said, and Hermione leaked out another tear. 'Cause I'm in love with you.'

Hermione let out an exasperated cry of happiness, and their lips met in desperation for each other, never wanting to let go.

Ron broke off another time.

'What?' Hermione said, rather enjoying herself (to put it bluntly).

'Mione, I can't do this, there's something I have to tell you.'

'Is this about you being... you know?'

It was Ron's turn to look away.

'Yeah,' he said softly.

'You can tell me anything, you know,' Hermione said, enveloping her hand in his.

He gulped, and shook a bit.

'Mione, you've got to understand me, though...'

'I will, Ron, I will,' Hermione said, trying to get it out of him; trying to find out what had made him so depressive.

'You don't understand, though. And you have to promise me –'

'Anything,' Hermione said, growing more worried. What was going on?

'Well, tell me you won't – that you'll forget about it, yeah?'

'Ron, stop scaring me, OK?' Hermione said, shaking herself.

Ron shook, and it was a good thirty seconds before she realised he was crying.

'Ron,' she said, braving up, hating to see him like this. 'Ron, I love you too. Please tell me.'

He looked at her again.

'OK,' he said. 'OK.'

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	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Here's a big SORRY for the delay... I've been really, really busy, but I know that's not the greatest excuse. I wish I could say my computer's broken down. But it hasn't. But here's a chapter with some ANSWERS.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

'Ron, I love you too. Please tell me.'

He looked at her again.

'OK,' he said. 'OK.'

There was a pause. Hermione held her breath.

'The fall,' Ron said at last. 'At – at the fall, my –' he shook his head and indicated it. 'My stupid head. It – it hit the ground. You know that, don't you?'

Hermione made an understanding nod in her throat; she, of course, knew pretty much all he had said – she was a sensible, clever girl. She knew how to add two and two. And only hope she got four.

'Well,' Ron stammered. 'T-the thing is. It... 'Mione, it triggered off some thing in my brain. My small, tiny, little pathetic brain. It broke some nerve or something, I dunno. I've never been one to... well, use my brain, have I?' he laughed sadly. 'Well, that nerve, it turns out... well, it's bloody important.'

There was another, rather pregnant pause.

Hermione digested the news, and pieced the pieces of information.

The doctor said he was going to be OK, though, didn't they? They said he was fine, _Ron_ said he was fine. And he _is _fine, Hermione told herself. She sat there, frantically calming herself. Nothing was wrong. Because, how _could_ it all go wrong? And how important was that nerve, anyway?

She felt the pause lasted too long. She opened her mouth to say something – anything, to break the silence.

Ron got there first.

'The doctors gave me three months.'

Three months? What was _that_ supposed to mean?

More tears escaped Hermione. A small part of her brain told her what it was. She _knew_, deep inside, what those words meant; she felt it, tugging at her heart, but still refused to let go that tiny part of reasoning.

They looked each other in the eye.

'Until, you know,' Ron said. Hermione's face was blank, and Ron brought his hand to his neck, and Hermione knew the slicing gesture that was about to be made. She caught his hand, and stared at him.

This unfathomable news crashed over her, when it all made sense, piece by piece. She couldn't not, would not get her head around it. Ron seemed so – so _there_, so alive, so in front of her.

The logical wheels in her brain whirred.

_The doctors gave me three months_.

But the accident was one month ago...

Hermione let out a cry of exasperation and clung onto him in a fierce embrace. She would not let him go. She would never let him go. Two months was time... not enough to do for the rest of his life, but to find a cure, to do something, to save him.

But now, it seemed, all she was capable of was tears, clinging onto the one she loved, lest he... fell apart again.

It had bee a good few hours of... well, nothing. They sat there. Small talk grew even more meaningless. They could not bring themselves to address this... this thing.

At last, Hermione spoke.

'Why didn't you tell me before?' Hermione said, surprised at how gravely and croaky her voice sounded.

'I couldn't,' Ron whispered over her shoulder. 'I love you,' he added. He felt ease at saying it now, not only because Hermione knew, and responded, but because this huge secret was out, out in the open, it was free, and –

'I love you too, you know,' Hermione said. 'And I won't let you go.'

'You're gonna have to,' Ron said, and they broke apart, though still remained close.

'I won't,' Hermione mouthed, not being able to voice her determinedness.

'Mione, top Healers all around this country have tried, so, so hard. There isn't a cure, there – there just isn't.'

Hermione stood up.

'That can't just be it!' she yelled, frustrated, though at once cried more for yelling. 'You can't just _give up_! You can't just – just leave me'

'I don't want to,' Ron said bitterly, and it struck Hermione.

This was the new Ron. He was – _older_ now. He had the world on his shoulders.

Hermione w a clock, and remembered guiltily. Two months.

She sat down on a chair, unable, for the moment, to bear physical contact.

'Do you parents know?' she said, not wanting to hear the answer. Did it matter either way?

'No,' Ron said, cracking up again.

'Ron, you must –'

'No! I don't! It's killed me to see you like this, and I don't want to worry my parents anymore than this! You don't understand! You'll all be like this, for the next few weeks, or so!' He buried his face in his hands, running his hands through his firey, yet somehow limp, hair.

Hermione came to understand.

'That's why you stayed here, isn't it?' she said. 'Well, you have to tell them, you know?' She paused. 'Does – do any of – of the teachers know.'

'Dumbledore,' Ron said (a/n: yes, he's alive in my story. Why not?)

'OK,' Hermione said.

'And none of the others need to know, OK?'

'K,' Hermione said.

There was another pause, but by now Hermione had learnt, time was precious. Why waste it with being polite?

'You have to tell Harry this, you know that,' Hermione said, looking up at the clock she had begun to hate. It was lunchtime.

'Yeah. I know.'

'But you actually need to tell Harry this! He deserves to know – he's - he's you best friend, and eh deserves to know! Just tell Harry!'

'tell me what?' Harry said, hovering in the doorway, clearly under the cloak.

Hermione looked away, instantly.

'You'd better sit down for this, Harry.'

Harry took off the cloak.

'You're are scaring me,' Harry said, worry flashing across his face.

'You and me both,' Hermione said. 'You and me both.'

Well, there's another chapter. In case you wanted to know, they do tell him, but I thought I'd save you form that and get right down to the next bit in the plot.

Well, what do you think? I was unsure whether or not to have Ron at the burrow or at Hogwarts. Opinions, please!

And reviews!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

autumnlover


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